


HellFire

by Aurastorm



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Demon Sex, Devil Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, F/F, Hellhound Fareeha “Pharah” Amari
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 12:09:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19062400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurastorm/pseuds/Aurastorm
Summary: Fareeha comes from a long line of fighters. She retired, but a particular case brings her back to the demon-hunting scene: Swiss Doctor Angela Ziegler





	1. Grace

_0—//_

_“But look at those legs.”_

“I heard you the first time. I am not looking at her legs.”

 

Walking through a crowd had always been a pain with Mercy hanging off her back. Her demon had the bad habit of looking at anyone remotely attractive and pointing it out, enticing the doctor to chance a glance or anything that’d provoke her usually placid host. Angela had long learned the trick of wearing earbuds to look like she was having a phone call; anything to make it look like she was not chatting with the literal demon on her shoulder or worse, talking to herself. _“Ugh, you are absolutely no fun whatsoever.”_

“Yeah, yeah.” She sips what is probably the fifth cup of coffee of the day. Her blue eyes are dull, monotone. Her assistant had sent her home under the excuse that _‘she had been working for too many hours.’_ As if a fifty four hour shift was anything odd in their line of work. While Mercy was always a distraction of sorts with her whispering fantasies, Angela always valued staying on target with her work. One did not become the lead doctor of Switzerland’s number one hospital out of hobby afterall, “Do me a favor and shut up. I really am having the starts of a headache.”

_“Probably all that stress, prinzessin.”_

“Unlikely. I think it's your jabbering mouth.”

 

She shoves her free hand into Mercy’s face, forcing her back down to hide in her host.

 

Spirits were common nowadays. Everyone knew they existed. Some people harnessed useful demons, others, like Angela, were stuck being possessed by a nag of a spirit who found a weakness in their host. Their host provided protection from bigger meaner demons, or they could be nothing but freeloaders. The runts of the litters were usually trouble makers, and catching one of these pesky bugs was stigmatized: it meant you were weak, lacked the resolution to defend yourself, and were not resourceful enough to get rid of them either. Sure, there was specialists for the job, but Angela was not about to tarnish her reputation because a bed bug bit her.

 

She stood at the red light, the street busy as she waited to cross, wanting nothing more than to be in her penthouse sleeping or at least coiled in a blanket. She was banned from coming in for three days to the office. God knows what she would do in that time. Maybe she would drink some of the wine Genji gave her for valentines day. That bottle was expensive, like her taste in alcohol, and it was worth the man being disappointed to see it got him nothing from the doctor.

 

… Expensive wine, gas station pizza and maybe some sort of tv show sounded like a good way to spend the day after getting a much needed ten hours of sleep.   _Hey. Look at that one_.

 

Angela ignores it finally starting to cross without looking, “Would you please shu—“

 

The bike hits her.

 

Both fall to the ground, though Angela is quickly pulled onto the sidewalk. Whoever had just runned her over had at least the decency to pull her away from traffic. Her coffee is gone, her glasses are askew and her white coat is dirtied. She feels a pain on her leg, a few scrapes from the cement. Her earphones have fallen off her neck , “What the hell?!”

 

Next to her, a woman who is most certainly not swiss is wiping some blood from her lower lip. Apparently she fell face forward hitting the breaks as hard as possible in an attempt to avoid the collision. She still had a handful of the back of Angela’s coat after yanking her away from traffic. Some reflexes. She is also scrapped and probably bruised wherever her body locked with the bike but seems fine aside from a little dizzy. “I said: What the hell?!”

“You did not look when you crossed— the light has not changed.” The woman lets go and tries to stand slow, testing all her limbs. Angela is about to yell something likely obscene, only to notice the woman was correct: the light was barely changing as they spoke. This makes Angela blush, though she can’t stutter something witty since the biker was offering her hand already, “Are you alright?”

Angela takes it and stands up, swallowing back her pride she adds, “Yes. Sorry, that was completely my mistake.”

“It’s fine, uhm, sorry about your coffee and your earbuds.”

 

_Oh, those are some strong hands you got there. Mh, do you smell that? She must have been biking for a long time. Oh! Oh! Do you hear that? She looks like she has a demon too._

Mercy gushes, and all Angela can do is grimace in annoyance. She misses the part where the woman seems to repeat something, “Oh sorry— I did not mean to offend?”

“Eh? Excuse me, I missed whatever you said,” she states plainly, still wrinkling her nose. _This woman has a demon, you say? Oh yes. A big one. Ugh, great someone with a demon._

“Oh, I was wondering if you’d let me buy you coffee as an apology. We can get it wherever you usually get your brew,” the woman clears her throat and offers a small smile as she picks up her bike, “I’m Fareeha, by the way.”

“Dr. Ziegler, and no, thank you, I’ll pass.” No need to get involved with someone else with a demon. Had enough with her own.

“Are you certain? I’d hate to see someone so cute have their day ruined because a dufus hit her with a bike. Please, I insist.”

 _Oh and she thinks she is smooth, wonderful. Come on prinzessin!! This our chance!_ Before Angela can argue, Mercy has already responded through her body: “ _Alright, but just this once.”_

“Awesome, lead the way!”

 

_I hate you._

 

1—//

 

Angela always got coffee at a café near her penthouse when she had a spare chance. It had the darkest brew in town, and the cashier was a nice lady who knew her order. It guarantees the least amount of interaction for the best coffee, her two favorite things.

 

Fareeha seemed surprised at never having seen it, despite apparently pedalling around the block quite often. Angela refrained from commenting on the woman’s clothes and how this neighborhood was probably a bit expensive for her or her tastes— After All, it would be rude if she made such a comment to a woman that was very polite and kind, not to mention easy on the eyes, even if she wore military grade boots and pants and a plain old black shirt.

Angela finds them a table and sits propping her cheek on a hand, tired eyes on the woman’s back while she spoke to the cashier. She politely requested the coffee in her best attempt at german, nothing impressive but a proud smirk of wanderlust on her face still shows her success. There was something charming about the little affair: this obviously foreign woman, whose frame stood out like a sore thumb, enjoying the moment’s victory.

_She’s cute, ain’t she._

 

“Here we are: double shot espresso. And a latte for me, because I like fun,” Fareeha teases herself as she takes a seat and sets the cup down for Angela, “This place obviously sales some of the better beans. I like it. Maybe I’ll drop by more often.”

“Sorry, not to be rude but, what are you doing in this town? You don’t look like—“

“I’m from around here?” Fareeha snickers, bringing up the cup. She stops, enjoys the smell, before taking a small sip. She seems to indulge in it for a minute, giving a content exhale after, “I’m new to the town. I like to bike around here though, for exercise, but my routes are never the same. I swear I clean up nicely; don’t take my work boots and military pants as my daily look.”

 

The little wink at the end makes Angela fluster. She had never met a woman so confident in herself. Not to this degree anyways. _Ouf, tell me we will take her back to the house. I want a ride on her bike and on her_.  “I’m working at a mechanic shop in the downtown area, but I live a little past that, more in the outskirts. I haven’t had time to process all the paperwork yet. And you, Dr.Ziegler?”

“Well, I’m a doctor.”

 

Fareeha laughs. Its warm, it has Angela confused, “What’s so funny?”

“Well, I assumed you were a doctor of some sort. That’s how you introduced yourself. But what's your deal?”

“I… make people not die?” Angela raises an eyebrow confused at the question. Another short giggle. It makes her blush deepened, “What? I don’t get it.”

“So you are a doctor! Anything else?”

“I’m Swiss? No, not really much more about me.” She hides behind her own drink hoping that ends it.

Fareeha seems to have a little smirk, “Okay, don’t wanna chat, I get it, that’s fine. Thanks for letting me take you out for coffee then. I am sure it was a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

 _Come on. You can’t let this one get away!! Look at that smile! The muscles!!! The eyeeeees!! Angela come on. One time. Listen to me_!

 

“Actually, I have tomorrow off.”

 

2—//

 

Why had she told this woman where she lived?! Now she had to follow through on her own damn invitation. Mercy? Oh she was thrilled. It had been a long time since they had a guest! Which means way too long since they got _laid_ and she god damn wanted it.

 

Mercy was a demon, sure, akin to a succubus who didn’t make the cut; she was essentially removed from the ranks of succubu. The emotionally empty Angela had made a perfect little space for a touch and validation starved demon. In her own way, Angela had the perfect void to cradle her while she was at her weakest. For Mercy the few moments of intimacy Angela had were good enough to survive, but , oh, how she wished there were more. Especially when her own host ignored and neglected her. It was no wonder her devilish red features had all but bleached out into an ashy white. No action makes the devil sad.

 

Oh, but now they had a guest, one with a demon who they had not even seen!  No doubt, Fareeha knew Angela had a demon to, as much as the doctor liked to say she didn’t.  It was hard to ignore whatever emanated from the woman— an air of Confidence and knowing. That meant Fareeha was coming to meet Angela with full knowledge of the situation. Angela interacting with another host was something she only dreamed in her wildest daydreams.

 

_“Maybe she has a kink for demon hosts?”_

“I think that's even worse than her just being oblivious of you,” Angela exhales while she prepared dinner. Chicken alfredo. Surely that’d fill the big bulky woman, “Bold of her to say yes to a woman she ran over.”

 _“To be fair, saying you are a doctor, then inviting her to your penthouse is pretty damn impressive. It’d get you into so many panties if you stopped being such a prude.”_ The demon sat at the counter watching Angela work far too diligently for not being interested in this woman. The pale white tail gave a few flicks, lilac eyes amused and painted black lips curled into a lovingly deceptive grin.

“I am not a prude, I simply have better things to do than other women,” A swift response as she pulls the chicken from the oven, “Like basically running the clinic. Or maybe running most of the research in said clinic. Or succeeding in my career.”

 _“That doesn’t change you want to hop on that girl and ride her into the sunset~”_ She sang sticking out the tip of her tongue, just in time for a doorbell.

Angela knows there's no use fighting a demon who can see your desires, so she just pinched Mercy’s nose, “You. Get back in here. And don’t embarrass  me.”

 

The demon grins and vanishes into her host who smooths out her cocktail dress out and checks to see her red heels were perfectly cleaned. Her hair was down, and she had some make-up applied.  Dressing up but making it look casual was her thing. With a deep inhale she goes to answer the door, “Hello, dinner is not ready quite yet, so I hope you don’t mind waiting a few minutes. It will be out so—“

 

She hadn’t even realized she had wheeled around and made her way to the kitchen in her hurry. Angela does a double take and turns to face her guest, who had politely closed and locked the door.

 

Fareeha was in a dark navy dress that favored her curves. It was relatively short, coming up to her thighs. Her legs? Oh, looking wonderful in heels, showing off well toned muscle. The woman flaunted a few scars but nothing that didn’t add to that air of mystery that surrrounded her. It hadn’t been until now that Angela noticed the tattoo under her one eye, fashioned like some sort of icon of Egyptian history. _Oh. She’s egyptian._ That explained the tanned skin and thick black mane. Her hazel eyes seemed amused at the fact she had stopped the doctor mid rush. “What’s up, doc?”

Bad cartoon reference aside, Angela is quick to clear her throat, and adjust her glasses, “You look wonderful.”

“I told you I wasn’t a military pants girl every day.” Fareeha laughs, walking over to the counter. She sets her clutch down and sits on the stool Mercy had previously been occupying.

_A girl that can do both? Ooooh Ziegler, you are a lucky woman._

“Dogtags,” is all the doctor can fumble to mutter.

 

On a rather nice silver chain laid two dog tags. Fareeha looks down at them for a second, “Ah, yes. I never take them off, sorry if they ruin the outfit.”

“No, no, its fine. I hadn’t seen them—“

“I didn’t take you for a woman looking at details, do not worry.”

 

Angela doesn’t know whether to take it as an offense or a compliment. She clears her throat for probably the third time in the last four minutes and goes about finishing up the dinner prep. While that happens, they share small talk. Angela talks about her work and recent accomplishments, Fareeha of an adorable dog she saw on her way here.

 

At the table they have a similar discussion, though she notices Fareeha’s attention shift a bit. “Angela, you… have a demon right? She’s not an Assigned is she?”

That was odd terminology. It wasn’t often she heard someone versed in the mystical field enough to know it, much less admitted. It was still not looked well upon.   _Assigned_ was a term reserved to demons harnessed by force for the host’s benefit, and it wasn’t used normally. Probably because Fareeha had her own demon, she thinks to herself before responding. “I did not chose her, no.”

“Ah, I see. She’s very well behaved then,” there’s relief in her chuckle, “But uh, you haven’t gotten rid of her?”

“And contact a Provocateur for that? I rather not have someone in my house trying to fight her till there's success. Those processes are long, extraneous—“

“And not necessarily quiet,” Fareeha comments taking up the glass of wine to her lips. Like the coffee, she takes her time enjoying the moment with it, “I guess you wouldn’t want anyone to know, not with your status.”

“Precisely.” The conversation has her on edge. There was a reason few knew of Mercy.

“You know, constantly muffling her won’t help. Usually with Parasites they will sometimes fall off on their own if you let them have a little of what they want. They only want the host as protection afterall, but if they get big and strong enough they tend to go off and make their own li—“

“I am not going to enable Mercy.”

“Why? She can’t be a homicidal  demon if you have managed to work at the hospital without alerting anyone,” she takes another bite of her own food, “I’m sure giving her what she wants like snacks to a pup would help your exhaustion and mood.”

_Wait. I am the reason you are tired?_

“What do you know?”

“I have my own demon, you know that. And I have travelled a lot. So I learned to live with her. Though she’s a…. Heirloom demon.” Fareeha seems to hesitate on that, stating it more as an afterthought. Maybe she was lying, people who got demons by means of inheritance were rare, “We reached a happy compromise.”

 

Angela  changes the topic, inclined to think her disposition wouldn’t change on the matter, but Mercy was making it easier to speak to Fareeha, to relax, to drink a glass too many. Maybe Mercy was really trying to help.

 

3—//

 

As they finished dinner and moved to the couch, Angela had finally relaxed. She was smiling, chuckling and even responding to Fareeha’s little quips with her own. The wine bottle was half full now.

 

“So a retired Egyptian army pilot, turned nomad?”

“Yes, that’s it, out here looking for … well I am not sure, I am sure I’ll find it sometime.”

“How poetic,” Angela grins. Her elbow was on the back of the couch, holding her neck and letting her hair fall ever slightly to the side. Fareeha’s arm was draped over the back, laughing, now barefoot after admitting she had no patience for heels. She liked they were facing one another, and even at opposite ends of the couch she felt a closeness, “Looking for something unnamed.”

“What are you lookin’ for, doc?” Fareeha ask resting her head on her arm.

It makes Angela pause, think. She had only ever looked for her career, for her reputation. She got a penthouse high above the others and then spent her days alone here, with only Mercy as company. _Is that why I never thought of getting rid of her?_ “You know, I’m not sure.”

“Ah, maybe you been looking for something with no luck. You’ll find it.”

 

Fareeha pats at Angela’s elbow, though she seems to regret the contact, afraid she had maybe overstepped a boundary.  Angela’s free hand sets over the hand before Fareeha can take it back, “Are your hands rough from service?”

It's the Egyptian’s turn to stutter, “Yes and no. I had to get a mechanical engineering degree to be a pilot, nowadays, I just work with my hands. I fix up things, tends to be my go to work when I get somewhere new.”

“I feel like you should be making more money than the pocket change you probably make at the shop.”

“It makes me happy. That’s enough pocket change to me; Money stopped making me happy a long time ago.”

Their priorities were so different, and yet, Angela felt like that was endearing. Fareeha had something she couldn’t put her finger on, and definitely could never have. _Fuck. Just do it._

 

Angela feels a little of Mercy will her to do it. She takes Fareeha’s hand and kisses the knuckle, another over the middle part of her digits. Fareeha hesitated very much before pulling back, “Angela you are drunk.”

“Technically, I am only tipsy, but so are you.”

“It takes a little more than wine to get me tipsy!”

“Maybe we should fix that?”

 

Angela gets up picking up the bottle and stradling the soldier’s lap. She half expected Fareeha to say no, but she sets her hands on her host’s hips, “Don’t , uhm, fall over now.”

 _Nice excuse._ “So is that a no?”

Fareeha bites her lip, eyes shamelessly scanning over the doctor in her cocktail black dress. She must have swallowed audibly, “Not at all, Ma’am.”

 _Oh, I like this one._  “Wunderbar, then let’s not get distracted, I have the situation of you _not being tipsy_ to fix.”

 

Angela takes a mouthful of the wine, and while Fareeha waits leans in to kiss her— booze and all. The soldier has to chug if she wants to enjoy the kiss. After that she has to stop to gasp and catch her breath looking more than a little shocked; and Angela is giggling. Her partner regains her cool laughing and using a thumb to wipe a trail of wine off Angela’s chin. They kiss again, and Angela thinks its way softer than she expected.  Her hands cup Fareeha’s face, trying to coax her into a harder kiss, anything firmer. Anything that feels more like _sex and less personal._ But she can’t  ease it out of her, the kisses stay soft, gentle, slow, painfully so.

 

Fareeha’s rough hands press over the bare back of her dress. She feels the precision to the pressure Fareeha applies so meticulous and loving, like she knew where Angela’s buttons were and how hard to press them to get what she wants— She finds a weak spot in the curve of the doctor’s lower back, the little dimples perfect holds for her fingers. She pushes and Angela is moved forward into the kiss effortlessly. She isn’t sure where Mercy is, she feels her everywhere and nowhere, but she is far too interested in Fareeha right now.  The woman’s tongue is quickly finding were to bump to entice her to return the gesture. Angela is quickly losing this battle.

 

Her hands must have balled up some of Fareeha’s dress because when they pull back a few centimeters she sees the fabric disheveled. While the doctor is huffing deep, Fareeha is only flaring her nostrils to regain her composure,   “Want to take this to the bedroom?”

“Only if you want to,” The charming half smirk that curled those perfect lips.

“Is that even a question.” Angela doesn’t bother with the bottle, knowing that even if its half full, the only thing she is currently interested in being is _half full of Fareeha_ in whatever way the soldier preferred.  She has no hesitation in pulling her along to her near bedroom — place she really hardly used nowadays from the looks of it.

 

She had slept in the large queen sized bed but had made it and moved on. Everything was tidy unlike her office space, unmoved and organized. It was hard to believe someone even lived in that place. Angela has little time to think on this, Fareeha already nudging her to crawl on the bed, and she only gets her knees on the edge of the bed before the soldier has her lips over the exposed shoulders, peppering kisses and nips over them. One gets dangerously close to her neck, finding the strong arms around her abdomen and her ass pressed firmly to Fareeha’s hips. She can’t get away now, Fareeha enveloping in all the best ways, all she can do and run a hand over the woman’s forearm and try to turn her head with a moan at her partner drinks up earnestly. They whimper against one another.

 

While their lips are busy, she can feel Fareeha take a handful of her breast, toying with her peak between her index and middle finger, releasing and squeezing again. Angela couldn’t be happier she forewent underwear to keep any lines from showing on her dress. The Swiss is biting her lip, only able to stretch her neck and allow the egyptian access — Plenty of nips and lips, and it makes Angela press back into the other’s hips. She pushes back, rocking her against her body, “God, Fareeha, stop playing with your food.”

“But that’s the funnest part.”

 

She hadn’t realized she hadn’t let go of Fareeha’s wrist, clutching the  arm around her waist. She pushes down on it, and there’s little resistance from the searching fingertips. Fareeha leaves her breast alone for a moment, instead sliding up to caress her collar bone as she takes the hint, hiking up the lithe black dress. It bunches up at her waist a bit, deft fingers quick to trace her hip bone, feeling the curve before following the natural lines in the doctor’s body down to her wet core. She plays some more, only grazing with her rough fingertips, by now Angela’s little whimpers roll into a sensual moan, unable to keep herself quiet anymore.  “ _Fareeha, please.”_ And yet, she keeps toying with her, spreading her slick folds, caressing her intimately, occasionally pushing her against her palm with her hips; Angela is progressively losing her grip, and she is certain Mercy has suddenly flared up when Fareeha finally pushes a digit into her.

 

The flare spreads through her like a hellfire, consuming her senses for a few seconds, certain that this is the doing of her demon. Mercy, mingling with whatever was laying under Fareeha’s skin lights her sense back up.

 

She had heard stories that demons can sometimes act odd when two hosts have intercourse. Angela had always thought those were myths or superstisions, like any stereotype about sex. Yet she felt like this was confirming it; she was riding Fareeha’s finger in the physical plane, but whatever was happening in the ethereal plane was also affecting her body. Ghosts of hot kisses on her skin, fangs scraping her skin mixed with Fareeha’s firm  but precise gestures. Angela is gripping the bed sheets, probably loudly stating the raising beat to their intercourse, the crescendo of Fareeha’s hips making her grind harder on her fingers. There is little warning when she comes undone.

 

When her body relaxes, she slumps down on her face, panting still holding the sheets as her body quivers. Her body perks and immediately she moans when she feels Fareeha’s hands ran over her generously presented ass. She feels Fareeha ease off the bed, leaving her shivering. Angela thinks its over for a minute only to immediately be on the winding road when Fareeha’s thumbs spread her, hands splayed over her rear. She wastes no time playing with her food this time.

 

Angela is cute; she thinks biting the bed spread will stop her loud yells of pleasure, and she swears she feels firm hands on her back, rubbing down the curve of her body while being fully aware of Fareeha holding her ass. For once, Mercy and her seem to be overlayed, agreeing on letting this happen, letting themselves be spoiled, spoiled to the end.  She isn’t sure if she is numb or over sensitive, but all there is to focus is the tongue deep in her. Angela isn’t sure at what point she lost her voice and reduced herself to whimpers and complaints, sweating against the bedding.

 

The end doesn’t come slow, it hits her like a truck, and this time she is left face down on the bed, heartbeat still drumming in her entire body. She’s a bit deaf, and all she can see are stars on a black canvas. Her senses come slow to soft kisses up her back, from the crevice in her lower back to the back of her neck. Its like Fareeha purrs against her ear, nuzzling the side of her neck, hand kneading her hip. “How was that?”

 

4—//

 

Morning comes. So does Angela’s sanity.

 

Fareeha was sleeping by her, laying on her stomach and stripped down to the fitting briefs she had somehow hidden under her beautiful blue dress.  Angela still naked. She didn’t bother moving still trying to rationalize what had happened the previous night.

 

Sure, a little booze was known to ease some inhibitions, but the doctor had never been the type to just give a stranger everything after a single cup of coffee and a diner. _A hot stranger._

There she was again. After a long period of silence Mercy finally spoke. _Her demon is something else. Way more than any other I have seen in a long time._

 

Angela rolls over looking at Fareeha, who was snoring ever so slightly. There was some scars doting her body, thin lines of damaged tissue that never quite healed. Looking closely, they looked like sets of scratches that had ran too deep and not been treated right, though. Maybe she had fought some wild animal while deployed. There’s a tattoo too, on the left part of her shoulder blade that looks like a hieroglyph of Anubis. _So strong and big. Sorry, I stood no chance against that. Though it looks like you didn’t mind._

 

It is now that she notices the little golden beads that decorate the black locks. Angela wonders how many things she has not paid attention about Fareeha, wonders if she has not gotten to look at her properly. _What now? You going to kick her out? I think she’d be worth keeping around.  You need company, and who better than this mysterious soldier. You are curious about her aren’t you? Me too. How does someone get a hold of something like that?_ Angela slides her hand up a set of three long scratches over her shoulder blade.

 

_I want to know more._

 

5—//

 

Angela remembers especifically the imorning after her three days off. She came back to the office, having rested plenty.

 

Mei-Ling Zhou was an efficient assistant, and had taken to working for Angela while she was ‘taking a break’ from climatologist work. They had been friends in the doctorate program so she was glad to give Mei a job while the scientist was forced to rest after ten years of intensive work in the field. The job easy for her, so technically it was still a break.

 

The only difficulty was Mei’s demon, Snowball. Normally he was the size of a Pomeranian, just as fuzzy and with all white fur. A literal ball of fuzz with stumpy legs and no noticeable eyes. The mouth was completely overshadowed by the fur, and would only show when it yawned or snarled; and that was the problem. He was crabby one, a demon of rage that would turn into some large four-legged beast that  reminded Angela of what some people described at the abominable snowman and somehow, when enraged enough, it managed to trash things— even though most average demons cannot interact with the real world. Mercy likes to play with Snowball, and that didn’t help. So, half the job was babying Snowball, half organizing papers and appointments.

 

“How do you feel, Angela?” Mei smiles as they sit down to enjoy their lunch. Snowball monopolizes her lap becoming a white pillow, “I know Doctor Winston insisted on sending you on those days off after I brought it up to you. I hate to say it, but you look like you — _ah,_ needed it?”

“I think I did,” Angela replies shortly, watching Snowball rest. Mercy had been so peaceful in the last few days, “Maybe I will take those vacations off, I think Dr. Winston would like having you work with him for a little while?”

“Oh dear, I am not sure about that,” a nervous shy laughter and Snowball stirs. Mei pats him, “Need some alone time?”

“I feel like I do; it has been years since I took some days off and had an actual vacation.”

“So long as you promise to come back!” A little giggle is given, “To be fair, you seem distracted, perhaps it is for the best!”

 

Angela didn’t have it in her heart to tell Mei she wasn’t paying attention to her or the fluffball because she was daydreaming about the woman that had woken up in her house and left with no words when she fell back asleep. Fareeha only left behind a note:

 

_Hey, had fun last night. Feel free to come by my place_

 

Followed by an address and a phone number she was about to follow after two days of silence. She had drawn out and ready.

 

6—————//

 

 **_Angela:_ ** _How do you feel about take out?_

 **_Fareeha:_ **I’ll eat just about anything.

 

Angela erases a few comments that were variants of _I realized that the other night._

 

 **_Angela:_ ** _Then how about you send me your favorite place and I bring some to your place. How does six sound?_

 **_Fareeha:_ ** _Sure._

 **_Fareeha_ ** _: You are not allergic to dogs, are you?_

 **_Angela:_ ** _What? No?_

 **_Fareeha:_ ** _Ok, see you at six then!_

 

The doctor tilts her head looking at her phone and the last messages in confusion. Weird question. Maybe Fareeha had a dog or something. It was cute that she was suddenly concerned about her health. It's a short thought, when the message pops up in her phone with the address. It gets a click, the GPS starting with the directions, and she was happy it wasn’t a long drive.  Within five minutes she was at the place.

 

…. and Disappointed. She expected some sort of steak place or maybe some sort of Mexican food place — not a rather dark looking chinese food restaurant. She was waiting to spoil the soldier but if she wanted then who was she to say no? Mercy floats by the display looking interested at the food before turning to watch Angela interact with the cashier.  

 _“Well, she is easy to spoil. You think she has a doberman? Or maybe she has a cute little tiny dog! Oooh I cannot wait to see it. Mmm, get that girl some protein._ ”

 

She gets a little of everything, earnestly getting back into the car to head to her final destination. Once more, the doctor was surprised to find a small humble home in the edge of the town. Sure, the Swiss town had few large buildings to begin with, but she didn’t expect the house to be so far from downtown where she met Fareeha. She has a few neighbors, so at least this didn’t look too much like a movie waiting to happen. No murders here!  The Swiss woman takes the take out and approaches the porch knocking

 

Immediately, many barks start to sound behind it.

 

Mercy and Angela stare at one another, “ _Well, shit.”_

 _“_ I don’t think she has _one_ dog.”

 

Next comes Fareeha’s voice, seemingly to be speaking with her companions. It's obvious the soldier is shooing them away from the door before it opens and a few dogs run out. Three medium sized ones run out and past Angela leaving the yard and running into town, “Shit! The dogs—!!”

“Its fine, its fine, aaaah, they are probably going home or something.”

“What?”

“They are not exactly my dogs. They either are dumped dogs, strays or those that sneak out of their home,” she moves aside as the dogs continue to swarm, sniff at Angela and Mercy, some lose interest and leave, there’s a little of everything, little ankle nippers and big  take-out sniffers. Fareeha offers her hand to guide Angela’s steps into the house, “Sorry, sorry. They always swarm me — They will lose interest in a bit and spread out.”

 

There was easily some twelve dogs, but as Fareeha said, they were already going to walk around to take a seat or take a leave out the back door, allowing Angela some quick breathing rooms and to set the food down on the counter separating the kitchen from the living room.  Now, it's clear that Fareeha’s eyes are on Mercy.

“Is this your demon—“

“ _Pleasure you meet you, schakal.”_

“Aren’t your kind meant to be red?” Fareeha crosses her arms, holding her chin, watching the devil floating before her.

“ _Aren’t you a bright one-“_

 _“_ Here’s the promised dinner!” Interrupts Angela, making the soldiers look over— The tip of the devil’s tail curls under her chin and pulls her eyes back onto herself. Fareeha is convinced to gaze at the sly smirk.

“ _Just what are you?”_

 

Immediately she turns, leaving Mercy to gloat about something or other. Fareeha has other concerns, rubbing her hands as she walks to the doctor, “is that orange duck? My favorite.”

“I brought a little of everything, I was expecting, I don’t know. Something more…”  Angela hands Fareeha some chopsticks, the soldier eagerly prying them apart.

“Expensive? Nah, this is the best chinese food I ever had. Don’t know why there's chinese food this good  in Switzerland, but I’ll take it,” she pops a piece in her mouth. She does what she always does: Enjoy the bite and chew before adding, “Frankly, I didn’t expect you to come by after that night. Someone as successful as you must have a waitlist for one night stands.”

“I don’t _do_ one night stands—“

“ _What a liar.”_ Mercy has floated over them, playing with Fareeha’s hair, “ _She has them, then she pretends she never knew this person. You are just much to interesting_.”

“Get back in here and shut up.”

 

Angela takes Mercy’s tail and yanks, forcing the demon to retreat out of sight, “Ugh! Such a nosey little—“

Fareeha was chuckling softly, still eating, and once more it makes Angela blush and quickly bury her eyes on the meal in front of her.  This gesture makes her notice a dog sat under her stool, looking up at her somewhat upside down. Its tongue hangs out and it seemed content just staring at Angela eat, “Uhm. Can I help you?”

The dog continues to loudly pant and slobber a bit on the floor, leaning on Angela’s ankle thinking it was discreet. “I think he likes you,” Fareeha grins.

The pooch had the most wonderful crystal blue eyes, fur short and a grayish color. Its head was wide and a little blocky, but its snout was longer than seemed appropriate, “He's a husky-pittie mix. I think his owners threw him out when he ended up being twenty five kilograms.”

Angela looks back seeing that the dog was rather big, probably one of the biggest in Fareeha’s little pack, barely fitting under the stool. “But he is a sweetheart, only flaw is he _thinks_ he is a lap dog. His name is Marbles.”

“Marbles?”

“Because he lost ‘em and because his eyes look like marbles.”

“Can’t argue with that logic. Do they just roam the house freely?”

“The bathroom, bedroom and kitchen is off limits. They are fairly understanding,” Fareeha says, now taking some beef and rice, “More obedient than most humans too.”

Angela looks down at Marbles, “Isn’t it illegal to be hoarding dogs or something like that?”

“I don’t keep them. The door is always open, and many go back to where they want to be. They just swarm around me because of my demon, and I am not exactly about to throw out strays,” She leans down to pet another dog; a scrawny nearly hairless mutt of sorts, “They already got abandoned, I don’t have it in me to it to them too.”

 

Angela is silent, only playing with her food a bit, “What’s your deal?” She says sharply, out of frustrated curiosity, “So you're some kind of wandering soldier who retired and has a heart of gold, But you have a demon? Something doesn’t really doesn’t fit in with any of these other pieces. It's frustrating, and I can’t out my finger on what it is that bothers me.”

“Oh so this isn’t a date?” Fareeha almost sounds hurt, like she got her hopes up. Angela doesn’t answer.

“Well. That explains a lot,” Fareeha throws a piece of beef down for Marbles to eat, exhaling loudly, “So what do you want, then?”

Angela shakes her head, “How did you know about Mercy?”

“I have a dem—“

“That’s not what I meant, you told me how to get rid of her. I can’t figure—“

“Angry _someone_ isn’t a book for you? Finally someone hard to read?” The soldier holds up a hand, “I think Neither of us is listening to the other. Angela, I am not inclined to open up to just anyone. I travel, I don’t stick around. So, I can either offer you the _benefits_ that’ll help you with Mercy, or it’d be best if you to move on and forget about me before I do.”

 

She turns to her food, “All I’m willing to tell you is that I spent a lot of time out there, finding the best way to go about all this. _Trust me_ , I am not whatever you expect, so let me give you what I can.”

 

7–//

 

That was how they made their agreement.

 


	2. In Circles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May I interest you in contract in these trying times?

_ 0—// _

 

“I can’t give you answers to all your questions. Some answers would just make things difficult. You know you can trust me right?”

_ I don’t about know that. _

_ “ _ I am certain we could come to an agreement. I give you what Mercy craves, we keep it informal.”

_ Like what? Friends with benefits? _

“You are a beautiful woman, Angela, but my life is too complicated to walk in to. Please, trust me.”

_ Complicated? You are a mechanic. “ _ Alright. So you are telling me to trust you, someone who refuses to speak transparently, who is offering casual sex because it just  _ happens _ to help my demon problem — All without a penny?”

“Well, it sounds pretty far fetched when you say it like that.”

“Because it is.”

 

Fareeha exhales and shakes her head. She takes Angela’s hand and places it over her chest, where her heartbeat is. Both hands hold Angela, pressing her to her pulse. As a doctor, the familiar and soothing sound of a strong heartbeat is surreal and easily recognizable. What was alienating what the dual beat: like something  _ else _ had a heartbeat in Fareeha’s body. It shocks the doctor and her knee jerk reaction is to pull back. The soldier holds her steady as if to make her recognize something was not right, “I can help. I know what I am talking about: All I need is your trust, Doctor Ziegler.”

 

_ 1–// _

 

She groans a bit , feeling sore to the bone. It hadn’t been a particularly wild night, but she had probably been far too tense when she arrived at Fareeha’s place in her first mini vacation. Angela rubs her face, then her neck, glancing next to her to bed mate.  _ She sleeps quietly for a big woman. _

 

It was certainly a pleasant surprise. It had been two months since they agreed to their little affair. At first it had seemed to be purely relating to Mercy and taming the demon, Fareeha gave her whatever the demon seemed to want: Hugs, forms of attention, back scratches. It was like the soldier was doctoring the physician and her ailment. Angela was the patient for once, and it’d be a lie to say she did not enjoy the amount of attention and care Fareeha poured into her, ensuring the doctor was caring for the physical and emotional well being for the first time in years. She got reminders to eat, sleep, to take a break— just about everything. Fareeha was a woman with some sort of gift for protection.

 

It had started as a strictly professional sort of business, the kind of behavior Angela would expect from a very apt and well-versed Provocateur. Once what was needed was achieved Fareeha would step back, give Angela her autonomy and apologize for any infractions. It was always swift, methodical, but the Swiss could always feel the lingering brown eyes, like she wished she hadn’t parted.

 

Or maybe it was her imagination.

 

Slowly, the treatment became a little more intimate. Little dates, small gestures like Angela’s favorite coffees, things that were not necessary for the  _ sex  _ that quieted Mercy down and made her much more manageable. Gentle interlocking fingers while having intercourse, the held eye contact through orgasm, the tendency for Fareeha to aim and please Angela above all while still melting into a vulnerable softie when she finished. That was what tipped off Angela on Fareeha’s interest: Allowing herself to be serviced by who was essentially a demonic client. Surely  _ that _ was not normal with professional Provocateurs. 

 

Now she was in Fareeha’s bed, in one of the woman’s large shirts, yawning as she went to stand up. She had the closest route to the coffee machine memorized, so she is quickly shuffling along to the kitchen to find her fix, still half asleep.

 

The blonde is starting the machine when she feels one of the dogs bump into her leg, and looking down she greets what had essentially become her favorite. Marbles was always the first to say good morning, so he gets a little bit of bread and a head rub as she fetches her borrowed mug in Fareeha’s place. Busy with that, she can’t hear the shuffling from the bedroom, till Fareeha is by the doorframe, “I’m making coffee and some toast. Hopefully this isn’t too healthy to kill you.” 

“I will live, I'm sure,” Fareeha responds as a small senior dog comes to her.  She picks the dog up, coos some soft greetings and pets it a bit, the old pup rumbling in the gesture, “Lionhardt seems in a good mood today. How did you sleep?”

“Just fine, Mercy hasn’t woken up, so even better. Things do get quiet when she sleeps— which I never knew demons could sleep,” Angela nods turning to scratch the old dog behind the ear before Fareeha sets it down, “This would have been nice to know about in medical school.”

“You mean to tell me you avoided sex while in university?”

“I did  _ not _ , and stop talking about my sex life like its an open book!”

“I’m curious that's all!” Fareeha laughs. It was strong and rang true, like just about everything relating to Fareeha Amari. 

 

Angela had finally recognized that what made Fareeha astonishing and imposing was the uncanny air of confidence she exuded almost all the time. The cocky half-grin, the smugness that reached her eyes, the way her broad shoulders tensed and relaxed with idle gestures; she was a somewhat arrogant woman, despite how she would softened and try not to be so around Angela, “You are attractive it must have been hell to avoid suitors.”

She almost got lost in Fareeha’s laugh, so it takes her a second to regroup,” Something like that, but really I was just too busy to socialize.” A dismissive shrug before looking over to pour out some coffee, “ I don’t get your obsession with my sexual history.”

“Well, your sex life is why I even get to chat with you.”

 

The comment makes her feel a bit guilty. Maybe because it was true, maybe because she wanted more than a business affair — Angela was in love with the idea of whatever this mysterious woman was, “I suppose so. We are chatting now aren’t we?” She gives Fareeha a cup of coffee.

The soldier takes eyebrows raising a bitc “Yeah, guess we are, though It’d be nice to have pillow talk and not only this—“

 

_ Guys!!! LOOK AT THIS!! _

Angela almost jumps out of her skin as Mercy pounces out, holding her thing tail in both hands. She basically holds it in Fareeha’s face, showing the appendage to the soldier. “ _ Look!! Look look lookie!!” _ She shakes the tail, the motion patting the top of Fareeha’s nose, “ _ Red! We got some red!! _ ”

The doctor walks around to take a look to see what the sudden hubbub was about. Indeed, there were hints of red that started near the tip and seemed smear along the edges of Mercy’s skin. It made her look almost koi like.  Fareeha chuckled, “Well, not bad! Looks like you are already improving, and it’s only been two months!”

“ _ Aha!! A few more months and I will be able to return to the legion!” _ The demon is all laughs, seemingly thrilled at the minimum improvement— but she cuts the distance, cupping Fareeha’s face and forcing a kiss on the soldier’s lips. Angela tenses; she feels the pressure against her lips, the nip from Fareeha’s perfect teeth, the silky texture— and she is quick to yank on Mercy’s tail, “Too early for this.”

 

Mercy is pulled towards her host, stalling her escaped to make a gesture of  _ call me _ with a wide toothy grin before willingly retreating. Fareeha licks at her lips a little, feeling the taste of black lipstick. She just puts her attention on the cup of joe she has, “Told you it’d help her.”

“So I see.” Marbles barks next to her, demanding attention from the slightly jealous doctor. She doesn't know why the pang of jealousy hit her so hard. Angela told herself it was not like they were anything, just an affair mixed with business. A set of friends with benefits in pursuit of a common goal. Yes, that was it, and still, a quip escapes Angela,  “What? Not going to give  _ me _ a kiss?”

“Hey, she took it from me. I wasn’t giving anyone a kiss!”

“Except for Lionhardt.”

“I kiss all the dogs.” 

_ Come on. Take it for once _ . Mercy is promptly ignored,“Don’t you have work?”

 

“... Oh shit.”

 

1—//

 

It was a bit flattering to be allowed to stay in the home of her host. It was nice and quiet, and there were plenty of chances to relax while something played on the TV and she cuddled Marbles. Mercy had decided to bother the other dogs, enjoying that the little critters could see her and interact with her— still thrilled about the bit of red that tipped her tail. However, after a couple hours they are both bored. Comfortable and warm Fareeha’s shirt, but bored.

 

“What do you say Marbles? Should we bother Fareeha?” She ruffles the dogs face,playing with the ears as it slobbers a bit on the couch, but it's charming. Surely Fareeha wouldn’t mind. Angela reaches over for her phone and opens the interface, finding Fareeha’s number.

 

**_Angela:_ ** _ Are you still at the shop? _

**_Fareeha_ ** _ : I punched in like twenty minutes ago, Angie _

**_Fareeha_ ** _ : Yeah, there's two cars that need some serious work. Not excited about that, especially because the person on shift did not show up _

**_Angela_ ** _ : I am sure you will be able to fix it _

 

 _Angie._ _She really fancies you._ Angela is playing with Marbles’s ears, thinking if she should play with Fareeha too and torture the woman, test if she truly was interested beyond business as usual. 

 

**_Angela:_ ** _ working alone then? _

**_Fareeha:_ ** _ yup :( _

 

_ “ _ What do you say Marbles, do we mess with your mom?” Angela ruffles up the dog , playing with his ears. “I think it’d help us pass time, don’t you?” The dog yawns at her before slinking off to probably get some water or bother the other dogs in the house. 

_ “Just do it!”  _  She hears Mercy call from somewhere in the house, causing her to jump ever slightly. “ _ Come on, she will love them.” _

“You go back to bothering the dogs.”

When the silence lasts and she thinks Mercy is gone, Angela clears her throat and looks at her outfit. How do you send someone pictures off yourself?

“ _ Like this!”  _

She had been so worried she had not seen Mercy sneak back— The demon makes her move her shirt up in a smooth motion before snapping a picture. Angela’s glasses are thrown off a bit when Mercy sends the picture. It all happened too quickly. “What was that?!”

“ _ You think too much.” _

**Ding**

 

Her face lights up. Oh no. Fareeha got the picture.  _ She got the picture _ . She fumbles to pull down the shirt and fix her glasses, and bring the phone up.

 

The first thing she sees is herself:  Disheveled glasses, Fareeha’s shirt balled up in her hand— She is wearing a bra, of course, but the abrupt motion managed to displace one of her breasts, so a bit of her nipple is visible.  She thinks she is ready to die.

 

**_Fareeha:_ ** _ Is that my shirt? _

**_Fareeha:_ ** _ You look far too good to be just laying around. _

**_Fareeha:_ ** _ This is unfair. I am at work and can’t do anything about it, you know? _

 

_ “Heh, she liked it. I told you,”  _ Mercy coos, the ghost of her patting over Angela’s arm makes her shudder, “ _ You should give her more.” _

 

**_Angela:_ ** _ Does that mean you want another one? _

**_Fareeha:_ ** _ Yes _

“Great now what? I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

“ _ Shirt up, hook a finger on the bra and pull it down, let her see a little more.” _

That's the next on that gets sent. This time Fareeha takes a little longer to reply this time. She sends a picture of her own; nothing too spicy, except her chiseled abs and that tantalizing V that was visible and lead further down her jeans. She is sweating a bit, obviously from work, but Angela was too busy remembering when it was from other, more interesting activities.

 

**_Fareeha_ ** **:** _  don’t think I can send much more _

**_Angela:_ ** _ This is hot though.  _

**_Fareeha:_ ** _ you better not have all the fun for yourself. I am going to try and get out of work early _

**_Angela:_ ** _ better hurry, no promises if you take too long _

 

_ Send her another _ . Angela decides on a video: Her sliding her hand into her underwear. She wasn’t gonna do anything— not that Fareeha knew it. The response takes a long while to arrive. She wonders if Fareeha thought of sending something instead of just sending a quick text.

 

**_Fareeha:_ ** _ I’ll promptly fuck your brains out when I get out of work. _

 

She gulps. Reading that did not do her any favors.  _ You dun’ it.  _

“Shut up, Mercy. Now what?”

“ _ Be thankful you don’t have to work for a few days? I bet those abs do amazing work.” _

“Oh god, you think she has a strap?”

“ _ She looks like the lesbian who’d have a few,”  _  the demon chuckles, peeping up over Angela’s shoulder before taking a look at the doctor’s phone, “ _ she’s hot though. I think it’ll be good.” _

_ “ _ Is it bad I know so little of her and yet…”

“ _ There’s something charming about a mysterious girl, especially when they got a six pack,”  _ Something cracks in Angela,”  _ You should get a cold shower. Maybe try not to think too much about the mess you got yourself into.” _

“I hate to agree with you, but you are right,” Angela fixes her glasses going to sit up, now noticing Marbles under the coffee table, “DO NOT look at me in that tone, young sir!!” 

 

2—//

 

The shower did not work, mostly because Mercy thought it’d be a great idea to send some more selfies that didn’t even get a reply.  Angela was a mess. She couldn’t help but wait anxiously for her lover to come back after making the formal promise of  _ fucking her brains out _ upon returning home.  Finally a reply:

 

**_Fareeha:_ ** _ I will be there in ten. _

 

Definitely got out early. Angela goes to try and fix her clothes one more time— Make sure the borrowed shirt is clean, slipping some shorts on, only to remove then, checking the little make up she put on, cleaning her glasses. She was nervous cleaning at this point, and once she hears Fareeha’s car park outside she is certain her heart is about to burst out of her chest, looking to the door like she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.  _ “Oh finally, she’s here, can’t wait!”  _ Angela feels her glasses at the tip of her nose, she gulps and pulls gently at the collar of her borrowed shirt.

 

Through the door comes Fareeha, a little dirty and definitely sweaty. She drops her bag at the door; it’s obvious she didn’t even bother changing clothes, and the mechanic only spares small pats for the dogs before ignoring them and going to find a certain doctor who was sat patiently in her bed, tapping her knee impatiently. The bedroom door is immediately closed so none of the various pups come in to complain about the lack of attention.

 

Angela coughs, clearing her throat as she jumps to her feet with a sheepish chuckle, “I think that was less than ten minutes?” 

Fareeha is not really beating around the bush, moving to kiss Angela, pulling her closer. They do not part and Angela soon finds herself cornered against the wall — Surprising, since she expected the bed. Fareeha is pulling her up guiding Angela’s legs around her waist. She can feel the roughness and need for her, knowing that her partner must have really liked what she saw.

As the mechanic bites and licks at Angela’s neck, the doctor exposes her neck a bit moaning a small comment, “N—not going to use a toy for this one—?”

A long lick from the base of her neck to her jaw makes her shudder, though they part after. An uncharacteristic golden color fills Fareeha’s eyes, and the woman has a wolfish grin on her lips, “I will do you one better.”

_ It’s her. It’s her demon. _

_ “ _ Are— are you sure?” There’s a certain nervousness to her voice.

The soldier gives a hearty laugh before wordlessly pressing a trail of slow kisses up her neck. She nips at the earlobe, making Angela whine. With that, Fareeha whispers in a thick and sweet voice, “Do you trust me?”

With that, her concerns melt away and Angela is clay in the stronger Host’s hands, “Yes. Of course.” 

“Great, because I’m going to make good on my promise, doctor,” Fareeha is moving them back to the bed, throwing Angela onto the mattress as she worked to open her belt and jeans. Angela, however, sits up and slides back to the edge, stopping Fareeha’s hands with her own.

“Allow me.”

 

Angela takes her time unbuckling the belt, sliding a hand up into Fareeha’s shirt, caressing the sweaty bumps of her abdomen.  She returns to the buttons, opening the jeans and peppering kisses over the tanned skin. The doctor is certain that it tastes a little salty, but she couldn’t possibly love it more. Her kisses trail lower and she feels the Egyptian comb her hand through her blonde locks with a hefy groan. “Gods, Angela, let me fuck you already. I am getting impatient.”

_ I bet if we tease her enough she’d really give it to us. Ah, can you feel her demon? I can’t. They must be synced up perfectly. _

 

There was little time to answer, because Fareeha was nudging her to lay back, “You already teased me plenty. I think I want more.”

Angela chuckles and reclines back onto her elbows, giving her a smug smirk, “Aw, did I make the casanova wet at work?”

“You have no idea; but I’m about to give it to you like no one else has,  _ malak _ ,” she crawls over Angela, sliding a hand under the shirt to roughly squeeze one of her plump breasts. There’s nothing down there so she takes her time pinching Angela’s nipples and getting them quite sensitive. 

“R-really? Never before?” She asks as Fareeha leans down to nip and suckle, offering a nod. Angela’s glasses are fogging up some, but she can’t be bothered, “Unlikely.”

 

Taking it like a challenge, Fareeha smirks wide, and Angela swears those golden eyes are dangerous on their own.  One hand holds Fareeha up, while the other pulls aside the crotch of the Swiss’s underwear. For a second, she lays there in disarranged clothes, curious. Fareeha makes eye contact, bracing her hands at Angela’s sides, and holding that intense gaze starts to sink her hips against Angela’s.

 

At first there is nothing, the blonde is confused, but as the mechanic sinks closer to her she has the distinct sensation that  _ something _ is filling her  _ up. _ Its unexpected, and her  first response is to curl her legs up and brace her hands on Fareeha, loudly voicing her surprise— it quickly melts into some form of astounding pleasure as she feels herself accommodate whatever was in her. She is panting, whimpering as Fareeha’s hips press on hers, “Well, you two feel very tight. Not nervous are you?”

Angela grunts as Fareeha bucks into her, making her give out a loud moan before collapsing back into the bed. Once again, she is certain her and Mercy are one, and she can’t help but wonder if this was the doing of Fareeha’s demon. Her lower back arches, begging for more attention, but she drops down, finally chancing a glance down. As if to tease her, Fareeha uses her middle and pointer finger to spread the opened zipper and button, showing that there was nothing there; though the blushed face and quickened breathing gave whatever trick this was away.

 

“There are benefits to having a lover that is also a demon host, Angie,” she cooed before bracing down on the bed. Her hips started to move, slow and careful, taking her time to get both of them used to the weird sensation. Sure enough, all that was slapping together where their hips, and yet Angela could swear that Fareeha was balls deep in her, thumping away at her sanity. The doctor is gripping the bedding, riding the humps out.  Their thrusts start to crescendo but Angela finds that the angle is not enough.

 

“Harder Fareeha, god, please!” She demands, her core throbbing, entire body twitching. She was close but not quite there. Ever the complying lover, Fareeha take Angela in her arms, and turns it around, letting the doctor impale herself against the ghost appendage. The Swiss moans loud and clear but is quickly bracing her hands on Fareeha, nails raking her abdomen, and riding her like they had done this countless of times. For a minute she is sure she feels like her tail is wrapping around Fareeha’s leg— like Mercy and her are sharing the tail and wings for the first time. Every hard thrust down is met by an earnest shove up, both of them meeting the other half-way there. Angela’s hand slid up once the mechanic’s chest, and Fareeha kept her hands there, against ragged breaths and the thumping of her heart.  They are both breathing heavy, sweating, the stuffy room only filled by the loud noises of their love making and the slaps of their skin.

 

Their orgams isn’t planned or united. They each climax a few beats apart and it's so sudden that there is little warning of it. Angela collapses on top of Fareeha who is uncomfortably hot under her. The sensation did not go away quickly. It took a few minutes to feel like whatever sort of magic had been pounding her faded; coincidentally, it was about the same time that Fareeha’s eyes returned to their kind brown. Sweat drips down her brow, and Angela swears she had never seen Fareeha so overworked.

 

“What was that?”

 

3–//

 

They must have been at it for hours. Fareeha was still far too bothered to let Angela rest. She took the doctor in a number of ways: From behind, on her lap, while Angela rested on her side,  against the wall…. When it was over, Angela was a dizzy, sweaty mess, legs covered in her own excitement and with Fareeha attached to her back, gently kissing her neck and caressing her skin. She felt spoiled beyond belief, like she hit the jackpot.

 

She had just gotten pleased for many hours straight, and now this lover was showering in after care, asking her if she needed water, giving small kisses, massaging where maybe they both held on too tight. This intelligent, mysterious and beyond sexy woman was treating her like there was no one and nothing else more important in this world. There was something incredibly sweet about this woman bringing her a cup of water and a granola bar, and then resting her head on Angela’s stomach while the blonde ate. She would be certain that the woman fell asleep if Fareeha wasn’t caressing her hip bone. “What are you, Fareeha?”

“Mh?” She rolls over, body facing the ceiling.

“ _ What _ are you? I had never met a demon host like you,  _ anyone  _ like you,” Angela’s hand plays with the dark locks, “Are you really a retired soldier?”

“Yes, I served in the Egyptian army for many years.”

“If you are _ just _ a soldier, how do you know so much about demons— how to do…  _ that?” _

 

Fareeha glances up to Angela, notices those big blues with some form of uncertainty. She was sure if anyone hated uncertainty it was Angela, “The less details I go into the better, trust me.”

Somehow that didn’t settle her worries. She remembered the mischievous gold in Fareeha’s eyes, that grin of a charmer that she had never seen.  What was demon in the soldier?

“Part of me wants to know more about the person who I share a bed with.”

 

“You know my name and where to find me, I don’t think you need more than that.”

 

4–//

 

After that response, Angela had tried to forget about Fareeha, and had even left an hour o so after. Hiding facts and information is a sign of a liar and cheater, and Angela did not quite like that game. She went back to her home, her job, refusing to play with Fareeha.

“ _ Are you sure? I am going to bleach at this rate.”  _ Mercy exhales shaking her head as floated after her host while she walked around the clinic, towards the tail end of her shift.

“Then make do, I refuse to get back into bed with someone who is so adamant about not telling me what her deal is. Aren’t you concerned we haven’t seen her demon?”

“ _ Weren’t you into it for the mystery?” _

“Yes but not this too long. We have been at it like two months. I’d expect to hear more by now,” Angela sets some papers down onto her desk, sitting down, “Or maybe I’m wrong for expecting anything.”

“ _ You know she won't approach you right?” _

_ “ _ And?”

_ “If you don’t act, you will never get a chance at that woman.” _

“That’s the point.”

 

5—//

 

When she wakes up, she sits up in hot sweat gasping and huffing. Quickly she realizes she is alone, and her face grows red, “Mercy!!!”

_ “It wasn’t me _ .”

 

The reply is short. Bemused, the demon is floating, staring at the ceiling, her tail hangs, swaying a bit,”  _ Don’t blame your wet dream on me. That was entirely you.”   _ She leans back, body working in a ‘c’ shape before she lays with her elbow crossed midair. Her legs bend, ankles together as she examines the black polish of her nails,  “ _ It was a hot dream though, I’ll give you that.”  _

“Ugh, why was I even—“

“ _ Because she is a hot piece of ass?”  _ Mercy twirls a finger and taps her lips, “ _ There’s also the fact she was capable of fucking you into not thinking. I take it that was sublime. _ ” 

“Sex has never motivated me,” Angela retorts, pushing the blonge bangs out of her face. She feels guilty of the heat between her legs, so intense it hurt. The demons soft little giggle makes her same her head, “If she is interested she will come to me.”

_ “She won’t,” _ the demon turns onto her back, staring at the doctor upside down,”You haven’t realized? Whatever her demon is, it's a demon of pride and arrogance.” Angela looks at her dumbfounded, and Mercy cocks an eyebrow, once more snaking in the air. She slides close to Angela, fingertips pressing onto the doctor’s collar bone with the largest most thrilled laugh m,” _ You didn’t know!” _

“You don’t exactly communicate with me,” Angela swats her hand away.

_ “You don’t exactly make it easy for me to.” _

 

“ _ Whatever type of demon is in there, I am certain it’s a demon of pride. That’s why she is so confident, arrogant to a fault. That’s why she walks with her shoulders so stiff. She knows what she can do, and if not? She’ll fake it,” _ Mercy walks her fingers up over Angela’s body, one step at a time,  _ “but she is still human. Her host anyways. If you stroked her ego you’d be able to stroke everything else; and maybe she’d talk.” _

 

She Flicks Angela’s nose and cackles with a sharp grin at the loud complaint from her host, “ _ or that’s what I’d do. But what do I know! I’m just a demon, whose host is too much of a bitch to cooperate with me.” _

“You are a parasite, No one trusts those kinds of demons.”

_ “And? We both like this one. All I am saying is that if we cooperate we could wrap her around our fingers, Angie,”  _ Mercy’s smirk is wide,” _ She’s just a mortal. And contrary to what she has said, we have plenty of give to play with between her and her demon. Not all is well in paradise. We could own them.” _

 

_ “Not literally, but you get it.”  _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by popular demand!!
> 
> Hope ya’ll enjoy this gone wrong and long
> 
> Edit: I wanted to thank everyone of the support! This was an idea I had kept putting off, but thanks to many people/friends I decided it was worth it.
> 
> As always, come drop by my twitter @Aura_ Stormgirl , if you are interested in commissioning snippets or asking stuff on curious cat.
> 
> Cuidense <3


	3. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories do not age like wine.

_ 00–// _

 

Angela had a perfect attack plan, despite having avoided Fareeha for nearly a week. 

 

She knew that the mechanic had a fairly stable work schedule. Same times, same days. The goal was to catch her by surprise, maybe beg a little; the point was to earn Fareeha’s trust and catch her while her walls were down. 

 

Really, it was all Mercy’s genius. It seemed the imp knew the soldier better than herself. Either that, or she knew the demon imprisoned within                                         f Fareeha better than the woman herself. It was a flawless plan, and she repeated it to the demon as she made her way to the shop, parking a little ways away and walking the remaining distance.

 

Angela was dressed in her office attire, no clinic work today. Skirt, blouse, hair up, perfectly cleaned nails, dressed to kill. She came to the door, fully intent on knocking— it was open already.

 

“Then why would you come to Switzerland and not take the case.”

“Why did you come and not take it?”

“I thought that if  _ my daughter _ came to a location. Where dangerous demon had been working. She would take care of matters—“

“ _ Do not call me that.” _

 

It was a snarl, deep, guttural, and an uncomfortable silence followed. An exasperated exhale finds the silence, seems to pat its back. She wonders if thats where Fareeha learned it from, how her attitude and aura just seemed to defuse anything.

“The Banshee is getting out of hand, habiībti. The family contacted us, saying that the last one to ask about the case did not arrive. We are Hunters, we do not simply promise—“

“ _ I am retired,”  _ a loud clatter sounds, like Fareeha dropped a heavy wrench on the metal cart were she kept her tools, “You know this.”

The next few words are harsh whispers, but the sharpness is enough to carry them to Angela, “ _ The only way people leave this association is in a coffin. You are lucky Reyes has a soft spot for you and the unfortunate circumstances that threw you into all of this.”  _

“I’ll take my chances.”

A short scoff escapes the other woman, and defeated steps finally come towards Angela.

 

The doctor jumps, back pedalling and taking a slow step forward to bump into the visitor, and pretend she had just arrived, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. She didn’t expect to bump at eye level with an older woman. Long black hair, streaked gray with age, a tattoo under her eye. Skin as olive as Fareeha’s, the same jawline, strong shoulders — Then her eye. One of her eyes was scarred, like some sort of chemical burn had destroyed the tissue. As a doctor, Angela could tell whatever happened, it had been painful and rendered the white orb all but useless. She wondered if there was more scars under the long dark blue coat, or if the gloves concealed vain attempts at saving her eye.

 

Not that it mattered. The single Hazel eye swept over Angela, and Mercy immediately flinched; a distinct feeling of vulnerability. “Pardon,” is all she says before walking around the petrified doctor. It takes a bit before she shivers and feels free of whatever had stunned her.

“What was that about?”

_ “Demon Hunter. They make a living out of getting rid of my kind,”  _ Mercy’s hands are on her shoulders, and looking back she sees the demon hiding, “ _ I have seen what they can do to a low tier demon.” _

“And that was….”

“ _ Yes,”  _ Mercy slides a little out of hiding, “ _ Fareeha’s mother, I think. She has a demon. Something big. Ugh, If I see something bigger than that, I’ll riot. First Fareeha then this!” _

“It wouldn’t be interesting if her mother was an elderly lady who r,” she snorts and goes inside, looking for Fareeha.

 

The soldier had already slid under the car she was working on. 

“Hey, is the mechanic in?” Angela asks, clearing her throat. She hears a loud  _ thunk  _ from Fareeha slamming her head into the bottom of the car. She curses in what's probably arabic before sliding out and sitting up.

“Are you okay?” The doctor asked raising an eyebrow while the ex-soldier rubbed her head. Her smirk is obviously concealing a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t expect you.”

“I assumed you took walk ins,” she cooed softly, chuckling. The mechanic stands up cleaning her hands on her heavy work jeans. Something lights in her eyes as she looks over the doctor.

 

“You and Mercy are getting along?” She seems genuinely astounded, though in a good way.

Angela nods, “Better than in a long time.”

“That’s great news,” An honest smile spreads across her face, “I am glad it's better, between you both.”

“Heheh, yeah—  Sorry are you busy?” she points her thumb towards the door, “I just saw a customer leave. I can come later if-“

“No,no,  its fine,” Fareeha waves a hand, before patting it on the car glancing over it, “Though I’m working. I don’t get out for a bit.”

“How about a break? I am sure you have a coffee machine,” the doctor offers with a small smirk.

 

Fareeha rubs the back of her neck thinking on it, before giving in to the temptation, knowing how this would likely unfold. No use fighting it. She nods, “We do, in the lounge.” 

She would walk a few steps around Angela, before gesturing for her to follow along to the back of the shop.

 

At the end there was an  _ Employees Only  _ sign, but Fareeha does not hesitate to push the door open to allow Angela inside. While she goes turn on the coffee machine, the doctor looks about: a small room, with a sofa and an armchair, a table, and TV that was off. The radio was on, though, which was expected if Fareeha was alone. 

 

The mechanic despised the quiet.

 

_ 01 _ ———//

 

It was easy to lose track of time. They must have been at it for quite a while. Their clothes had been kicked to the side, a window cracked open to let in some fresh air, and the radio still played some sort of tune. The two laid the couch, naked.

Angela was half on top of her reaching for her glasses to place them on her face while Fareeha rested with her eyes closed, foot hanging off the side of the couch.

 

“Are your bosses  _ ever _ in the shop?”

“Hardly. I have the place to myself most of the time, really,” the ex-soldier replies, letting out a yawn, “The schedule and them saying they’ll come by is a formality.”

 

The doctor rests her head on the warm tanned chest, looking at the few white scars that dotted Fareeha’s skin. The duality of the strong thumps of her heart always concerned the doctor, “Who — Who was that woman?” The blonde asked shyly. 

“A ghost of a memory. It doesn’t matter much, like the marks on my skin,” she responds, “A past that I don’t really care much for.”

“I see,”  _ she is always so cryptic. _

“Hopefully not knowing doesn’t bother you.”

“I think I’ll make do with that,” a loud exhale leaves Angela, “Though tripping on a memory seems like a waste of time.”

 

They are quiet, a small frown taking up Fareeha’s previously relaxed expression. 

 

_ 02 _ ——//

 

She wondered if their plan had boiled down to  _ fuck now, don’t ask later. _

 

It felt like her and Fareeha had managed to find a way to squeeze in at least one quickie everyday. Sometimes in the mechanic shop, other times at the clinic, at times in either of their cars— probably why Mercy’s tail and wings had finally tinted all somewhat red much to the demon’s delight.

 

Mercy sat proud on the desk. The spade at the end of her tail was still black, as were the firm bits of her wings and thorns; but the previously white parts had dyed a pinkish red, and Mercy was thrilled to be able to show them off, usually lounging around while the red appendage flicked about.  The demon toyed with a lock of black hair idly, “ _ She is such a treat! I can’t believe she is coming all the way over here to see us! _ ” She grins sharply towards Angela, who was busy flipping through a few thick files, ‘ _ Coming out here. At like four am, just to have breakfast with you!’ _

“She likes our desk, I think,”  the doctor picks out a paper, speaking with little interest as she squints at the paper, having taken her glasses off to rest her eyes a bit,” Besides, it's more like dinner for me.”

“ _ I like the desk quite a bit too,”  _ Mercy wiggled an eyebrow over her lilac eyes, ignoring her host glazing over details, “ _ especially when she has us bent over it!” _

It was true. In the last few days they had gotten used to how forceful Fareeha could get, especially when her eyes were golden and she used whatever magic it was that let her mount the doctor while not even technically having a dick of any sort. It was outrageous how the Swiss with a reputation for being cold and intimidating came apart as soon as Fareeha’s hand got involved. The image of those golden eyes, though, haunted her more than the tracing of the mechanic’s hands.

 

“So that’s her demon?” The blonde mumbles not looking up from the tablet with information on a recent surgery.

Angela felt that Mercy knew exactly what was her train of thought, benefits of being bound. Yet, the demon seems to think on it for a second, “ _ Yes. Though she does not speak much, and that’s a little surprising. For a demon and host who supposedly have a great allegiance, I don’t think I have ever seen them talk like us. Seems a little fishy, doesn’t it?” _

“Maybe, but what do we know? Apparently there's associations of demon hunters or whatever.”

“ _ It's only logical that if something is annoying, there is a group to come out and kill them. I had heard of the Provocateurs and that stuff, I guess it makes sense that there’d be people to deal with the more troublesome ones,”  _ Mercy shrugs, pushing off the desk where she sat, and floated towards Angela, retreating into her host. It leaves the usual cold feeling that spreads over her chest. The doctor sets anhand over her chest,  _ are we really coexisting if persecution is involved? _

 

_ It’s almost time for your date. We should go. _

 

The contrasting tones of the statements daze Angela, but she packs her keys in that haze, throwing them into her labcoat’s pockets and picking up her glasses before heading out for the cafeteria.

 

_ 03—// _

 

It was four in the morning so there was next to no people in the cafeteria.

 

The blonde was a bit early, and that’s probably why she didn’t expect Fareeha to already be there, with her little visitor tag, seemingly distracted. Her eyes were on Mei, who was sat at a table across the cafeteria on her cellphone. It seemed someone was yelling through the line at her; or it looked like that, considering the face the poor scientist had, shifting from leg to leg, biting her lip and fiddling with the buttons on her blouse. Very few words left her mouth, and the few that did seemed to be apologies in Mandarin, soft and hushed. The red tint on Mei’s face only seemed to deepen by the second, her brown eyes sinking further into the floor.

 

That was probably why Angela did not resist the urge to approach her with a friendly pat on the forearm and a small smile, startling Mei. The climatologist made her best attempt to hide her distress behind a shaky smile that immediately fell flat as she apologized yet again. The call must have lasted for an eternity before Mei finally managed to hang up and set the phone down on the cafeteria table in front of her to hide her face in her palms.

“What’s the matter Mei?” Angela asked her friend and colleague.

“Someone misplaced the files back home for a very important project I had been working on for over a year!” She exhales finally uncovering her  face, glasses smudged, “And since my last laptop bricked recently this means my entire library was lost— I called the management, they kept me in the runabout for hours only to tell me that my data was as good as gone because they cleaned out the systems while I was away!”

“Why were you apologizing?” Now she only felt a little confused.

“I had to inform the head of my department my publication would be delayed and he completely lost it. And on top of that he was blaming  _ me _ !”

That makes Angela visibly cringe, unable to imagine how horrible that must have been.  _ Angela? Where is… Where is Snowball?  _ The realization crashes into Angela, and the doctor swivels her head so quickly her glasses quickly slide down her nose.The white puff was nowhere to be seen. Her blood runs cold, as she echoes Mercy, nudging the Chinese woman with the hand that had gone to rub her back, “Mei? W— Where is Snowball?”

Mei’s concern and worry is quickly replaced, as she looks around before her eyes become glued on Angela’s. A small whimper escapes her,  _ “Oh no.” _

 

The demon erupting out of her host knocked both of them over. 

 

For a what seems like minutes, everything is fuzzy: Angela must have hit her head fairly hard on the tiles. She can hear a sudden panic from the few people in the cafeteria at this time.  _ Your glasses, dumbass. Snowball just lost its shit. _ Angela pats for her glasses, hating being nearsighted, but once her bumps into Mei, the medic is scooted over to check on the woman. From the clatter behind her, a chunk of chair goes flying over her head. Angela glances over her shoulder and squints at the white mass making a loud mess of the cafeteria. That would be hell to explain to the hospital security, later. She repeatedly pats Mei’s chest, shaking her with the other hand.  

“Mei, wake up.  I don’t want to alarm you, but Snowball is going nuts over here,” She gently slaps Mei’s cheek with the tips of her fingers while her other hand searches for her glasses, “I am going to need you to wake up right now!’

 

She feels her glasses bumping into her fingers, wasting no time slipping them on and patting her pockets for the smelling salts she always kept on her person during her shifts at the hospital. While she pats herself she makes the mistake of glancing over to Snowball.

 

The huge beast was definitely more horrifying than she remembered. 

 

While it looked most comfortable on all four, it liked to stand on two legs to tower over everything around it. Two meters of snowy fur and most obviously muscle, the back legs were hooves. The two abnormally long arms on the frontal part of its body only had three digits: talons with sharp black claws at the end. Its head was shaped like some sort of wolf or canine, adorned with two backwards horns -- this had no fur on the top part of the jaw. It was entirely a  charred skull, as if flesh and fur alike hand been melted off, though a tongue was visible under the gaps of the bone structure. No eyes, no ears, no nose.

 

_ It looks like a wendigo of sorts,  _ she hears Mercy chuckle a bit as Snowball tipped another table over looking for a door to escape and continue its rampage. Angela? She is busy scooting back as two eyeless sockets turn to her. The doctor can only grab onto the front of Mei’s shirt and dragging the Chinese climatologist along further to the side. A hiss like snarl escapes from the slightly opened maws as the long tongue snakes out, flicking, smelling out the doctor and the unconscious woman. She swears they make eye contact, and Angela feverishly hits at Mei while not breaking that undying gaze. 

 

It's a shrill whistle that shatters their staring contest as they both glance to the source.

 

Fareeha  raised both palms and made a gesture for the demon to dash her.  A cold mist leaves the nasal cavity of the beast before it roars at the mechanic, a noise sharp and vaguely sounding like a crocodile’s growl. All the Egyptian does is square up.  _ Is she seriously just going to fist fight it? That’s fucking ridiculous. I thought only the irish did that. _

_ Mercy, that’s racist.  _  Angela pulls the Mei a little closer as Snowball breaks out in a full out gallop on all fours at Fareeha. She can’t be blamed for feeling like Fareeha is a complete dumbass but she is far too busy opening the smelling salts she finally found.

 

Fareeha backs up two steps, her right hand coating in a golden sheen before disappearing: and the mechanic stares at her hand dumbfounded. Suddenly, she seems to realize her plan is ridiculous and it’d be impossible to punch the beast mid dash, deciding to quickly dive out of the way to hide behind a table. “Was that your fucking heroic plan?!” Angela yells out, wafting the smelling salts in front of Mei’s nose. Snowball is now busy lifting the table and throwing it aside before clawing down and at Fareeha who is quickly scooting back and narrowly avoiding the razor sharp talons.

“Look!! You  got a better plan?!”

“I am Working on it!!!”

 

The soldier rolls to  the side as the beast pounds down with both appendages like an ape. All Fareeha gets in is a kick to the side of its skull before it snatches her ankle and flings her across the cafeteria.  _ OH  GREAT NOW OUR FUCKBUDDY IS DEAD. _ “Shut up Mercy!” Angela is back at slapping at Mei’s face with repeated pats, “Waky waky!!  You are not frozen or in shock get up!” 

She can hear Snowball’s tongue hissing at it moves towards the soldier that was barely getting up after being thrown aside. Fareeha rolls over and quickly crawls under a table to hide once more as the beast looks to keep playing with its food.  _ We are going to have to do something, Angie, or she is going to die to a damn demon!  _

 

Angela groans before standing up and running to stop meters away and behind Snowball. She pulls out her keys and throws them at the demon. They harmlessly bounce off but it gets its attention. “Come on you big fluff ball! Come over here!”  It turns fully towards her, and the doctor locks up hearing it hiss out at her. She is unable to back up, but the slow walk is stopped as Snowball roars and wheels around once more --

 

In the middle of that motion it meets with a fist. Angela flinches, at the loud distinct noise of bone breaking. Simultaneously, Mei cry out in her unconscious state as Snowball collapses with a loud thud, its skull head cracked.

 

Shy of Snowball’s size, a large woman stood with a handful of Snowball’s stubby tail. Her fist seemed inlaid with golden ribbons, as if decorated post battle, skin tan but seemingly bathed  in that same color. Unlike Mercy who seemed to wear an entire full body outfit, this demon wore a skirt and cropped top, unmistakably ancient and egyptian. Black hair cascaded well past mid back. Aside from the gentle trails of gold that laid in her veins, she seemed all but human. It would be easy to dismiss her as an abnormally tall woman, were it not for the long furry black tail and sharp pointy ears decorated with golden earings.  She carelessly dropped the handful of Snowball, and unceremoniously nudged the beast with her foot. 

 

It was only then that she cast her deep gold eyes onto Angela.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been forever, I know! I had some busy time and crashed into a creative wall. I wanted to update this, however.
> 
> Thanks for all the reads and kudos, and as always don't hesitate to drop by @Aura_Stormgirl to let me know what you think or support me on my Ko-Fi if you like my content.
> 
> Happy Summer!


	4. Note from the Writer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About this work and the Author

Hello there!

This “note” will probably be deleted when the next chapter goes up, but I wanted to let you all know of a few things and happenings involving this work!

I have finally changed the status of this project to reflect the fact that it is ONGOING. Originally this was going to be a one shot, but it quickly became my main works, and a favorite among my close friends. As such, I want to continue on it, and develop the full story of it.

However, unlike Icarus or More Lost than the Moon, these chapters are beefy, and I like to make them at least 5k words. This means it takes me about 3 times as much work, where as the others are done in one sitting, each chapter of Hellfire has taken weeks in production with many people reading the drafts and helping me out decide the best pacing.

As someone who professionally works in literature, most of the time is spent deciding on what makes some bits feel forced before they get smoothed out to help with flow while keeping artistic choice — and this is not including the amount of drafts I go through deciding demon designs (Snowball for example.) Personally, choosing the correct words and structure mean the world, and is a step in production that takes up a lot of time.

All this is to let you all know that, yes, the next Chapter of Hellfire is currently being written! As always you can reach me @Aura_Stormgirl on twitter!

I will do my best to reply to every comment in this “chapter” in the sort of Q&A style if you have any concerns or questions after all this! And if you are rooting to see something in particular maybe let me know ~

Cheers,  
Aura


	5. Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reparations are expensive

_ 00--// _

 

Angela had been swiftly dealing with the mess Snowball had cause, and the trouble had completely blown into a full scaled trouble. 

 

“ _ It’s actually hurt, Angie. It will take it a bit to heal _ ,” Mercy had been the first to approach and check Snowball with nothing short of concern. The front part of its skull face had cracked from the place of impact up to the empty sockets. The doctor was not sure how healthy it was for the demon to return to its small fluff ball form, but had no say in the matter as the exhausted beast became harmless once more. Mei and the little troublemaker would be able to sleep in an empty in the hospital. That had been solved rather easily.

 

The rest of the early morning was taken over by paperwork. Angela had to report and explain the demonic event , reassure everything was fine with the host, ask the maintenance department to take care of the cafeteria  mess, and ensure that Mei was held to no responsibility over what was effectively an accident.

 

That left the doctor exhausted and with one last problem: Fareeha.

 

She had Fareeha moved to her office where she rested in Angela’s loveseat. The soldier had been unconscious for the day, only mumbling ever so slightly when moved a bit too much. By the end of the morning, Angela was far too tired, but wanted to make sure Fareeha didn’t develop any complications from being thrown around by a monster that was well over two meters tall. They could go together to Angela’s penthouse and would just request an uber back to the hospital to pick up her car at a later time.

 

This in itself wouldn’t have been so annoying or unsettling if it weren’t for Fareeha’s demon looming over them with an expression of bored disdain, as if she was only vaguely inconvenienced by having to follow them too and fro. Even Mercy seemed unsettled by those golden eyes.

 

When they finally got Fareeha in the Doctor’s bedroom, night had fallen once more. Mercy had retreated to Angela, wanting some freedom from those glances that felt so oppressive to her. They lingered in the bedroom for a split second.  _ That thing doesn’t look happy. Its outside.  _ Angela held her breath, exhaling before going out  and closing the door behind her. Sure enough, the large demon was sat with her  arms draped over the back of the couch. Now she noticed that this demon looked a bit like Fareeha, although the devil lies in the details: Golden eyes, a few tattoos that wrapped around her arms, the longer hair that cascaded probably to her hip and the nails that were most obviously black claws. 

 

“Any reason you are barefoot?” Angela asks before she can help herself, cursing her unfiltered sarcasm.

“I like the feel of the ground,” she replies shortly, with a small scoff. 

“I see,” crossing her arms, the doctor looks at her new guest. She knew she had wanted to meet this demon for a while, but now? Angela kinda wanted to take it back. There was some sort of crushingly intimidating aura coming from them, and Angela didn’t quite like it. She understood why Mercy never stood a chance, “What do I call you?”

“I am Anubis,” A shiver runs down Angela’s spine, “But Fareeha calls me Pharah. Either works, really.”  Angela crosses her arms at this answer, rubbing at her elbow in thought as she kept her eyes on this woman—  _ demon. _ The gaze was enough to make Pharah get up, as if called by Angela’s discomfort, “This is a nice place. I remember seeing it through  _ her _ eyes. I must say it looks much better up close.”

 

Though her steps were heavy, the doctor couldn’t shake the feeling that they were intentionally slow and calculated. Anubis walked her living room with some form of curiosity, but the dull golden eyes reminded her that the mortal plane was not very interesting to her. The demon was obviously careful of where she stepped but Angela’s train of thought was halted abruptly when Anubis _ picked up _ a picture from her shelf. 

 

Her blue eyes must have widened behind her glasses in some form of terror, because a sharp, lazy, half smirk spread over the demon’s face, “This is a nice family picture. A shame your parents did not get to attend your graduation, I guess you and the mutt share that. Orphans. Unwanted till useful. Ah, how the mortals love to squander good potential.” The frame is set back down, precisely where it had been.

“Fareeha is an Orphan?”

“She likes to pretend she is,” she flicks a wrist nonchalantly, continuing her little tour around the penthouse, relishing how Angela tried to keep the distance between them, “Always enamoured with whatever is romantically tragic.”

“Just  _ what  _ are you?” The doctor croaks, taking an extra step back as Anubis raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t you know? I would have thought your imp had a clue of what she was laying with,” The demon stops at the counter, reclining back on her elbows and onto the surface, “I am a higher demon. The kind some humans worshipped as gods once upon a blood moon, or something like that. We don’t live for contracts or on rituals, we live based on worship and adoration. But ah, our time passed, we had to move onto superstition like urban legends. Degrading as it were,  _ Fear _ works best.”  

 

Angela gulps. She had spent so much time researching the spirit realm through books ranging from encyclopedias to faux news, and she had never considered that perhaps there was more the relationships between demon and host than some form of symbiosis. This was well beyond what she had expected, stumbling onto what had probably been an ancient religion.

 

“Do you know there is a fine line between fear and love, Doctor?” The rhetorical question breaks her trance, and Angela finds Anubis closer, circling the few furniture pieces that had been between them, “When in mortal danger the human mind renders said situation as appealing, typically into sexual desire. That is why so many times survivors of disasters and tragedies bond and mate into long term agreements.” A slick black claw traces down her Angela’s chin, sharp enough that it felt like it threatened to break skin, “I think you understand this. You seem to have always enjoyed when I lugged your weight around too hard. Is that what the little doctor is into?”

Angela tries to tilt her head away, but Pharah catches her chin between her thumb and index finger, to forcefully bring her own face closer, “You like not knowing. It is a change of pace for a woman like yourself, isn’t it? Oh, how you wish the mutt wasn’t so mysterious, even if that's her entire appeal. You lay with someone who has something hundreds of times worse than the imp on your shoulder, and yet you trust her to be the one to rid you of your little devil.” 

 

A small blink of surprise as Angela’s hand presses on the demon, pushing away. The doctor, still shocked at the corporeal demon, managed to create distance between them. “How much of  _ you _ is involved when Fareeha and I—?”

The tint of disgust wasn’t able to escape her tone, and Pharah seems insulted by it.

 

A glare is her response, “How much of  _ Mercy _ is involved when you two fuck?” 

  
  


_ 01—// _

 

_ It was now midnight. _

 

Fareeha had been sleeping for a quite long time, and Angela was simply growing more restless with the demon whose golden eyes never left her. Now and again she caved and talked with it, her curiosity getting the best of her. Talking made it easier to forget how terrifying it was to know demons could touch the physical world if strong enough.

 

“The woman?”

“Who? The old geezer? Her name is Ana. She’s a demon hunter. Has one like me. A demon of old,” Pharah answer absentmindedly, fiddling with Angela’s phone that was on the table, pressing every button but never quite thinking of touching the screen,”She has had two actually.”

Angela stayed halfway across the room, behind the counter, entertaining her third cup of coffee, “Two what? Demons?”

“Two like me. I suppose you would call us gods, the hunter call us Archdemons,” The phone goes on the coffee table, then Pharah reclines and props her feet up on it, “I think Average humans like you don’t know we exist, because those Hunters make sure we stay in Hell where we rule. Something about boundaries and diplomacy.”

“Why come up here if you know its a doomed endeavor?” Angela lowers her cup, looking over the frame of her glasses, “I am sure there is more in Hell than here, captured in a body— You  _ are _ captured right?”

“I am. Fareeha has me bound to her body, the cretin,” a scoff, “Hell is no fun. No sun, no moon, no stars, no food nor drink — Its pretty bland, with minimal indulgence. Plus there is nothing quite as satisfying as human souls and their contact. I figured it’d be easy to stay up here, but the hunters were on my tail two or three possessions in. Apparently humans don’t quite enjoy it when a demon displaces their souls hide in there for the time being— Few can handle it, anyways.”

 

The doctor scratches at her cheek in discomfort, not wanting Pharah to elaborate on that, “Okay, so Fareeha bound you. Now what? Do you just stay there till she dies and then someone else has to capture you?”

“Well, aren’t you the curious one,” The demon yawns wide, showing a pair of sharp incisors that matcher her claws. Looking closely, those looked a bit like Mercy’s. “Demon Hunters bind Archdemons. They make them stay until they synchronize and the demon learns of the reality of human life, or some bullshit to that effect, and then the demon gets its wings and gets to go back to Hell after  _ learning the natural order of things.  _ Or at least that’s what the tourist pamphlet said when I was bound to her.”

“Synchronize? As in becoming one or just stop arguing?”

“Become one. For the time being at least,” Pharah shrugs watching Angela take a sip from her mug, “Why are you so curious? It's not like Fareeha means much to you aside from a quick lay.”

 

“Back to the old geezer,” The doctor ignores the statement completely.

“I think not. I have no reason to answer your questions,” The demon stands, immediately causing Angela to tense and set her cup down, “I am so bored I think I would rather go back in.”

“ _ Wait a minute.” _

 

Mercy emerges, slow and cautious, suddenly becoming the center of attention: Angela stunned she came out and Pharah intrigued at getting a closer look at the Blonde’s imp. Pharah’s body language changes. She turns to face Mercy as the imp floats over to her hesitantly, opening her arms and grinning. 

“Ah Mercy, so that’s where you have been hiding. Where you avoiding sweet little me?” The archdemon muses in a disgustingly sweet tone, as Mercy floats idly a few feet from her, casting Angela a small glance. 

“ _ Sorry, you are bit… scary, in person,”  _ Mercy watches Pharah close the distance between them.  The tail seemed to shyly coil and the wings tucked against her back. Mercy was certainly not comfortable before Anubis.

 

Emotions overcome hesitation, as Anubis cups her face and gently runs her fingers over the imp’s cheeks. Pharah’s eyes are full of a knowing confidence that makes Angela hold her breathe, “Oh, sweet Mercy, when was the last time someone touched  _ you _ and not Angela?”

 

Angela had never seen Mercy so close to tears in her life. Suddenly it all made sense: Mercy was touch starved and that must be madenning for a succubus. Mercy had not been physically touched or acknowledged by anyone since she had come looking for shelter in Angela. Pharah and Fareeha had been the closest she had ever been to  _ being touched _ , what with the synchronicity that overcame them every time they happened to have sex with the mechanic and her archdemon. Mercy tilting into Pharah’s thumb, holding the taller demon’s hand to her face suddenly became equal parts heartbreaking and terrifying: The power this archdemon held over the imp was crippling. 

 

This was why Mercy had insisted on pursuing Fareeha. This was what she had been looking for in the years of her captivity with Angela.

 

And Angela could not fault her for it.

 

However the doctor is completely appalled once the caressing starts to push further, slide over, pull closer— and Angela feels the ghosts every single touch over her clothed skin. 

“Wait—“

It was jarring, to suddenly be a bystander, to have no say in what was happening—

“  _ wow wow wow—!“  _ Angela blurts out trying to get the demons’ attention.

 

The bedroom door opens, “Pharah!”

“Ugh, go away I am busy.” Anubis grumbles, far too interested in biting the imp’s lower lip. 

“Don’t you ignore me,” Fareeha steps out, yanking the shoulder of her shirt down and reaching back, “ _ Come back here, now.”  _

The  Demon jolts, and Mercy stares up at Pharah as she snarls and is forced to concede, being forced to retreat— However, she does this as forcefully as possible, slamming Fareeha hard and blowing her back into the bedroom with a loud thud. 

 

Mercy and Angela are left staring dumbfounded towards the door. “Fareeha?” Angela asks almost shyly as Mercy floats over.

“ _ She’s conscious,” _ Mercy replies disappointed and sullenly as the doctor approaches her and goes to Fareeha’s side.

The doctor hurries over, and takes a knee by Fareeha, pulling out a tiny flashlight out of her pocket and checking the soldier for any concussion. She sees a flash of red, then gold, before the familiar brown returns to Fareeha’s eyes as she groans.  “Fareeha, are you alright?”

“Yes, sorry that she was—“

 

She trails off, making a gagged noise. Immediately, the soldier rolls over and runs to the bathroom, promptly emptying her stomach loudly. “Fareeha?!” The doctor follows her, finding the mechanic on her knees, done for the time minute, “This may be signs of a concussion we should take you back to the hospital—“

“No, no, it’s fi—“ She is cut off by yet another bout of vomit that ends not a second too soon,” It’s normal.”

“What are you? Pregnant?!” 

“I have not seen a dick up close, Doctor Ziegler!!”  _ A pause. Back to vomiting _ .

“Didn’t you technically put one in me?!”

“Was it—“ She groans, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand, “visible?!”

“No! But it was still a dick in some way, shape or form!” Angela throws her hands up exasperated, exiting the bathroom and findingsmelling salts and some saltines to help with nausea, “My god, you are a  _ heap _ of trouble.”

 

The response is some guttural demonic noises that escape Fareeha’s mouth, something that terrifies Angela but only seems to inconvenience Fareeha who takes the crackers and sits back leaned on the wall.

“Normal. This is. Normal? _ ” _

“It's a possession. Pharah is being a prick.” At least that part was in English, “I’ll be okay by tomorrow—“

“Okay, then you stay here under my observation till tomorrow, _ ja? _ ”

“ _ Ja.” _

Angela snaps her fingers and points at Fareeha as she walks out.

  
  


“Do  _ not _ patronize me.”

 

_ 02———//  _

 

Fareeha spent the next few hours sweating out what she called  _ possession sickness _ . A lot of vomiting violently, feverish cold sweats, occasionally archaic language spoken in deep guttural voices, and stuff Angela had never expected she would be dealing with on a Friday night. She did her best to keep Fareeha cooled off and with a trash can nearby. Plenty of fluids and bed rest. 

 

It go significantly worse around three am, but after that things finally calmed down, and Fareeha seemed to finally be getting some needed rest after such a trying night.

 

Angela was sat in her armchair, bundled up in a blanket still very much in doctor mode, overwatching her patient.  Every now and again she felt herself almost nodding off. She was close to 60 hours awake, running on more caffeine than a college student on finals. 

 

“You can come lay down, you know?” She hears Fareeha feebly say, “Its your bed, and it wouldn’t be the first time we sleep together.”

“That was different.”

“If you say so.”

The silence is heavy, just like her eyelids. She gives a disgruntled huff before kicking her shoes off and moving over to the bed, where Fareeha had already lifted the blanket for her to roll into the soldier. 

 

Angela wants to say something, to say that this didn’t mean anything, to say she wanted Fareeha out of her bed, out of her life, out of  _ her. _ There was no way. No way to separate the two pieces now. Not without pain and side effects. “Will you ever tell me the truth?” Has she asked this before? It's hard to recall. Mercy does not offer an answer. Mercy has been awfully quiet. 

 

She feels Fareeha’s arms wrap around her. Warm, safe— Was she like this with all contracts? With all the people she tried to help?

 

“I haven’t lied.”

“But you haven’t been honest either.”

“It’s complicated, Angela.”

“You punched a demon so hard you cracked its head,” The doctor says,” You mother is terrifying. Your demon scares  _ Mercy _ and  _ Snowball. _ Fareeha, I don’t think I am willing to be in the dark about this. Whatever stuff you are involved in is beyond me.”

 

They didn’t move, they didn’t face one another. “ _ I  _ am scared, Fareeha.” 

 

They didn’t speak for an hour or more. It was hard to make out the time in the windowless room.  Fareeha spoke disgruntled, cornered between whatever her duty was and her heart that laid so close to the woman in her arms.

 

“If I told you why I am in Switzerland, would you shut up about my past?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long break, I think it was time for an update. Please drop by @Aura_Stormgirl for occasional updates, curiouscat info, and some art when I feel i wanna suffer that bad <3


	6. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you thought things would be easy, fate would have a way to laugh

_ 00–// _

 

Fareeha had sat up a bit, choosing to lean on the wall while sitting on the bed. She held her side for a second, inhaling and letting herself rest before deciding to speak.

 

“There’s a high demon that has been terrorizing a woman, calls itself the Banshee. I didn’t come to terminate that demon. I haven’t done that in a long time — This Banshee seems to be a seer of sorts, and I have been looking for information that only they can give me,” The mechanic takes a pause and allows Angela to mull it over, only to continue to answer her unvoiced question,” My mother wasn’t exactly my mother.” 

 

More questions than answers, and Angela’s face shows it. The doctor seems truly incredulous, so she only gestures with her palm for the egyptian to continue. Fareeha hesitates, and Angela says, “I would like to know, Fareeha. I feel I have earned at least that.”

 

“There is a specific program that Blackwatch has implemented— Blackwatch being a sector of the Demon Hunters that specializes in dealing with anything that would otherwise cause mass unrest. Anyways, this program is called the rehabilitation process, where an Archdemon who has been acting in ways that threaten human safety or have been caught breaching illegally into the mortal plane  in humans is bound to an agent. There they must remain until they have come to terms with mortals enough that they are no longer a danger.”

“I feel like this means something bad.”

“It does,” she decides to lay down and stare at the ceiling, wanting to avoid eye contact while she speaks about this,”This involved synchronizing with the demon and eventually allowing it to live as a human through the agents body; a full on possession. It's a long and taxing process so most people only do one demon.”

 

“My mother has had two. Only one on record. Originally, she housed Bastet. She wanted to rehabilitate a demon from the moment she was allowed to, so of course she picked a difficult one. Her and Bastet worked together for many years; and when Bastet began to live as a mortal, she fell in love with my father,”  sighs,” When I was born, Bastet found hapiness. She raised me through my childhood, at least until she was labelled as rehabilitated and expelled into the demon realm again— and that left Ana with a five year old and a husband she did not know, nor recognize, nor loved.”

 

“Ana did her best, but it was obvious. I don’t fault her. She went to sleep and woke up nearly a decade later in a life that wasn’t hers,” Fareeha seems to want to conclude there, “I want the Banshee to help me contact my mother, Bastet.”

 

That was a lot to digest, mostly because Angela hir multiple realizations.

 

For one, Fareeha didn’t know Anubis had told Angela about some of these details, including the fact that Anubis, Bastet and Ana’s current demon were all Archdemons bound to their hosts. That meant Fareeha had been part of that Blackwatch division of hunters at some point and that Anubis was being rehabilitated. This also meant that at one point, be it today or in twenty years, Anubis would over take Fareeha, effectively putting the kind mechanic in indefinite slumber till that arrogant beast of a demon learned her lesson.

 

And suddenly, that thought terrified Angela.

 

01–//

 

It had been a few months, and Angela decided not to dig further in the matter.

 

While they tried to go back to the old sex and nothing more, it no longer worked. Every experience turned awkward, especially with Pharah’s constant disapproval and Mercy’s change of disposition. Angela and Fareeha were more likely than not left in bed, wondering if they should try again— Fareeha blamed herself for suddenly opening up, while Angela tacked it to her realization that nothing horrified her more than knowing she would lose Fareeha to some demon or that she would leave once she spoke with the Banshee.

 

**Fareeha** :  _ Do you feel like dinner and movies on the couch? _

**Angela:** _ That actually sounds very nice _

**Fareeha:** _My place at ten?_

**Angela:** _ It’s a date :) _

 

The Egyptian never ceased to be caring and dotting, to the point that Angela wondered why they couldn’t just admit there was more than just business between them. Even when Angela was busy, even when sex wasn’t working, even when Mercy’s tail had started to bleach — Fareeha was there. 

 

Angela greated all of the soldier’s dog when she lets herself inside, especially Marbles, who the doctor adored the most. “Fareeha, I am here,” she calls out towards the kitchen, picking up an old senior dog and lifting it up and over her head like it always asked to be, “Are you cooking? Something smells burnt.”

“I had some breadsticks in the oven but I don’t think they will be edible after this.”

The doctor chuckles and walks in, leaning on the doorframe as Egyptian pulls a pot of spaghetti off the stove, “Did you burn the pasta too?”

“No, but I think I left it quite dry—“ She groans dumping it into the trash, as a few dogs sniff at the bin, “I give up. Want to order take out?”

Angela laughs and nods, joining Fareeha, “Let me help clean, since you left a mess—“

 

They decided on pizza, something Angela didn’t eat often, but that Fareeha knew the number off the top of her head. While she ordered, Angela sat down on the couch, kicking her black heels off and bringing her feet up on the couch. The doctor crosses her arms on the armrest, staring at Marbles who would sit and stare at her as if waiting for some affection. She obliged, booping his nose before cupping and petting the side of its chunky head. Once he had his fill she glanced to the kitchen then the coffee table, spotting a few files scattered on its surface. She sits up and leans her elbow on her knee, splaying her fingers and the papers.

 

There were a few addresses and notes, phone numbers crossed out, pictures, scrawled glyphs— A familiar name circled: Moira O’Deaorain. 

 

Angela leans back, her glasses at the tip of her nose.  _ O’Deorain.  _ Mercy recalls her too, enough to make her speak after weeks of silence.  _ What does Fareeha want with our old— _

“Pizza time in thirty,” Fareeha drips by her, looking to Angela, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a gho—“

She notices the papers, and leans over to look at what Angela had seen. The two sit in silence for a bit.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on your notes,” She clears her throat,  “Is this for the Banshee?”

“And here I thought you had forgotten about that,” Fareeha starts collecting things into a pile, hiding Moira’s name in the stack, “Yeah, I think I know she is the one hiding the Banshee. Considering its the family who tipped her, I think the host and her are pretty close. Dunno how easy it will be to assure them I just want to chat.”

“With any luck, it won’t be difficult.”

 

02–//

 

_ “Moira is still in the department of genetics right?.” _

Angela was pacing, biting her thumb in thought. She had told Fareeha she had to run, so she went home and had essentially been losing her mind for hours, debating, “Yeah, she still runs that. It’s not precisely a part of the hospital, but it is run similarly. They have always thought she’d do well and find something to boost their name high, we haven’t talked—“

_ “Since I came around.” _

“She has no idea I have a demon, and I never thought she’d have one.” Angela sits at the edge of her bed, watching as Mercy floated with her arms behind her head.

_ “From what your memories tell me, she was quite hot…” _

“I had to cut it off because of you!” Angela points an accusatory finger at her before flopping back taking her glasses off with a loud exhaled groan,” Now Fareeha is going to chat with her and her mother wants to kill Moira.”

 

Mercy floats over, rolling to glance down at Angela,  _ “Technically, she wants to kill Banshee.” _

“Moira wouldn’t just let herself be possessed.”

_ “How are you so sure?” _

“Because you don’t know her like I do.”

 

The two stare into one another’s eyes, thinking and  challenging the other. Eventually, Angela looks away , towards the window.  _ “So you have feelings for this Moira?” _

“It’s quite complicated,” Angela retorts, “Very complicated. I never thought I’d see her again— well, aside from maybe in passing in the laboratories but she is the reason I gave up research in the higher levels ...”

_ “So the way I see it you got two options-“ _

 

She feels the ghost of Mercy’s spaded tail pass under her chin, “ _ You warn her of the demon hunter and give the Banshee a chance to escape and maybe spare your old lover’s soul.” _

Angela pushes at the tail, phasing through it as always, her blue eyes meeting on the imp’s lilac orbs,  _ “Or you make it easier for Fareeha and get her cooperation.” _ Mercy grins at her with sharp teeth, her own hand tracing over one of her curved horns, “ _ or I guess you can tell the Egyptian goddess. If you want a reason to not speak with Moira anyways. But we both know you wanna talk with her~” _

 

Angela sits up, making the devil rotate and float upside down, almost nose to nose with the doctor smirking. They are once more fighting one another, and Mercy’s grin curls further,  _ “You want to make a deal with the devil, is it?” _

“This Banshee has answers. I want them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back sort of trying you all know the drill <3 
> 
> Thanks for the patience so here is a short one while I work on the next chapter!!

**Author's Note:**

> Well it was a meant to be small, but then I had some very nice friends who got very excited with this so now!! I made it into a bigger project.
> 
> If you enjoy my content, please drop by @Aura_Stormgirl , I now take Ko-fi snippet comissions!


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